


Spacey

by honeyhoneybee



Series: The Immunocompromised Luther Diaries [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Fever, Good Brother Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Sibling Bonding, Sick Character, Sick Luther Hargreeves, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 20:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyhoneybee/pseuds/honeyhoneybee
Summary: Luther is sick AGAIN, and fevers still make him emotional. Five is a little drunk but he does what he can to care for his twin. {PLATONIC}





	Spacey

**Author's Note:**

> i <3 luther whump and luther being soft and i will not stop until all the hargreeves siblings have bonded with their big soft idiot bit brother <3
> 
> Five and Luther's relationship has a special place in my heart given their relationship in the comics and even onscreen too :)
> 
> Rated T for language and alcohol use

Five wasn’t surprised when Luther rejected Allison’s offer to go out for drinks with the family on this fine Saturday night. As much as Luther had been opening up to his siblings lately, it was clear to Five that his twin was just an introvert at heart. It wasn’t abnormal for him to spend whole days alone in his room. He claimed he was doing important research (“The moon isn’t going to come up with a new method of dating craters itself!”). Whether or not that was true, Five understood the need to be alone. Aside from Dolores, he also preferred to be alone a lot of the time. Maybe it was the apocalypse, but he needed to be alone to recharge sometimes, especially dealing with a family as crazy as theirs.

Five had actually wanted to go out with his siblings tonight, though, and not just because they were drinking. He too was getting more used to being around them. Unfortunately, there was no way he was getting into a bar for another six years.

So he settled on making margaritas for himself and Dolores instead. And when Luther rejected his offer to join them, too, he thought nothing of it. Walked right on by his door and into his room and didn’t bother him again for another two hours.

By then, it was 9 pm, and Five was seriously craving some nachos. Blame drunk cravings, blame puberty 2.0, blame Dolores screaming at him to eat something. He hadn’t eaten dinner, and he knew for a fact that Luther hadn’t either; he hadn’t come out of his room in 8 hours, his “research” must be pretty time-consuming. And blame his bitterness at not being able to go out tonight, but he kinda wanted some company. Animate company, that could help cook and eat his nachos with him.

So Five blinked himself right in front of Luther’s door. But he stopped himself before he could knock when he heard a muffled, squeaky sound from inside. He thought nothing of it. Until it happened again. And again, and again, and again.

When he blinked inside the room, he wasn’t surprised to see Luther hunched over his desk, with one of Reginald’s old handkerchiefs held up to his face. He had what had to be hundreds of pages full of notes scattered in front of him. So he wasn’t bluffing about the research.

It was all starting to click for Five now. Come to think of it, even for an introvert, staying inside to do research instead of going out on a Saturday was a bit extreme. And eight hours alone in your room is a lot. Five knew by now that his newly illness-prone brother holed himself up in his room when he was sick. Shit, he should have realized.

“Gesundheit,” he finally spoke up after a few moments. He tried not to roll his eyes at the way Luther startled, nearly jumping out of his seat, and turned to look at him over his handkerchief.

“Five!” Luther shot him an annoyed look, which looked ridiculous beneath his thick-rimmed reading glasses, and hastily put the handkerchief in his lap as he turned back around to his research. “What are you doing in here? Go back to your room.” Congested and hoarse, unsurprisingly.

“You’re sick.” Five teleported over to his side. “Have you taken anything?”

Luther shrugged, picking up a piece of paper and focusing his eyes on it. “It’s just a cold.”

“What are your symptoms?”

Luther rolled his eyes, still avoiding Five’s. “It’s just a bit of sneezing, okay? I’m fine.”

“You sound -and look- like you got hit by a bus. How long have you been feeling shitty?”

“I’m fine!” Luther snapped. “Really, it’s just the -heh- sneezing.” He immediately brought the handkerchief back up to his face and pinched it over his nose, jolting forward with a powerful, stifled double. “See?” He chuckled.

Five was not similarly amused. “And how long has the sneezing been going on?” Luther didn’t answer, just rubbed the handkerchief along the underside of his nose. “How long, Luther?” Five repeated in a more commanding tone.

“Since this morning,” Luther grumbled.

“You’ve been sick all day and you didn’t think to tell anyone?”

“It’s just a cold!” Luther defended, punctuating the sentence with a string of coughs.

“We’ll see about that.”

Luther went to protest, but then and then instead he lifted the handkerchief back up to his face with a hitching breath.

In the time it took him to stifle three doubles into the cloth, Five blinked out of the room, and then back again, thermometer in hand.

“Open up.” Luther kept the handkerchief pressed to his face.

“Five, it’s just a little cold, I’m fine–”

“When is it ever just a little cold with you? Now open up.”

“I don’t want you to get sick-”

“Open. Your damn. Mouth.”

Luther sighed in defeat, reluctantly opening his mouth. Five wasted no time in inserting the thermometer. And when it beeped, he grabbed it out of Luther’s mouth before his brother could raise a gloved hand halfway up to his face to remove it himself.

When Five saw the reading on the screen, he immediately clenched his jaw tight.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He snapped, tone way harsher than he intended. “Look at this!” He held the device, which read 102.3 degrees, up to Luther’s face. Luther just turned his head away. “This is why we can’t trust you to take care of yourself, Luther!”

Five shook the thermometer as he spoke, but Luther still didn’t read it. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, lips quivering. “I’m sorry, okay?” Five bit down on his lip, instantly realizing his mistake. Luther always got more sensitive when he was sick.

“No, don’t be sorry.” Five set the thermometer down on the desk. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But you really need to tell us when you’re not feeling well, you know how bad you can get. You don’t want another repeat of last time, do you?”

Luther just shrugged in response. Five reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, but Luther flinched away, swiveling his desk chair in the opposite direction. Five watched from behind as Luther’s big shoulders hunched forward, accompanied by the sound of his sniffling. Then he took his his glasses off and put his hands over his face.

“Shit.” Five’s face fell, losing any of its remaining edge. Despite his worry, he put on an air of calm gentleness. He knew that was what Luther needed right now. “Don’t cry, Spacey,” he soothed, finally putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder. He used the tone of voice and gentle touch he reserved for when his twin was in need. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Just worried.”

Luther shrugged again and continued to sniffle behind his hands. Five moved his hand down to gently rub at his back, which seemed to soothe him a bit. The sniffling died down after a few moments of this. Five couldn’t see, but he could tell it had been just a few stray tears, never reaching the point of full-on crying.

When Luther was finally done crying, Five wordlessly handed him some tissues from the desk. By now, he was unfazed by the crying. He knew that typically happened when Luther’s fever passed 102. It wasn’t the crying that concerned Five. It was the fever itself.

He waited until Luther had wiped his eyes, jolted forward into the tissues with six squeaky stifles, and blown his nose to oblivion before he spoke up again.

“You really only started feeling bad this morning?” he asked softly, brows furrowing when Luther just nodded in response.

Five sighed. “That’s really not good. It came on way too suddenly.” He blinked to stand across from his brother to get a better look at his face, which was flushed and tear-stained. “Jesus, Lu, why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Luther shrugged and rubbed at his nose with the tissues, which were shot. “Didn’t want to ruin everyone’s night,” he mumbled. “Looks like I ruined your night anyway.”

Five handed him some new tissues and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you really ruined my night. Cause I was having so much fun with Delores.”

Luther actually chuckled a bit at that. And even though it was at his expense, and even though Luther winced and grabbed his throat after, Five was happy to see him finally in a good mood.

“How ya really feeling, bud?” he asked, figuring the tension had dissipated. “I know you weren’t telling the truth, earlier.”

Luther sniffled and sighed in defeat. “Shitty.”

“I can see that…. I’ll be back in a few, okay?”

“Wait, Five, don’t–”

Five blinked away, anyway. And when he came back twenty minutes later with tea and medicine (it took a bit longer than it should have, given how ti, Luther was sitting up in bed with a blanket on his shoulders and a clean handkerchief pressed to his face, muffling a series of powerful sneezes into the unoffending fabric. It wasn’t going to be clean for long. He was so caught up in the fit, he again didn’t even notice Five’s entrance.

When it was finally over, he dropped the handkerchief lamely onto his lap and just sat there sniffling congestedly for a few moments, blinking wearily at nothing. Fits like these always took a lot out of him, and the fever definitely wasn’t helping.

“Hey, Spacey.” Luther barely even reacted to Five startling him this time, just held up his hand in a lazy wave as his brother set everything down on his nightstand. He put the mug of tea in his brother’s gloved hands. “Here, take this.”

“Thanks, Five,” Luther rasped, and took a grateful sip.

He put up no argument when Five gave him all of the medicine, only breaking away from him occasionally to sneeze.

“Okay,” Five said once he’d pulled the blankets up to his brother’s chin. Luther immediately brought the blankets up to cover his face. “Is there anything else you need?” Luther mumbled something incoherent under the blankets. “What was that?”

Luther finally resurfaced, hair messy and eyes half-closed. “I’m kinda lonely,” he mumbled, then immediately put his head back under the blankets.

Five rolled his eyes. “Well no wonder, you’ve been alone all day.” Luther poked his head out from under the blankets again.

“But now I feel lonely.” As pathetic as Luther looked, Five knew it was a good sign that his brother was comfortable enough around him to say that. Months ago, he would have never admitted that.

“Me, too,” Five admitted himself after a moment. “Stupid legal drinking age.” Luther chuckled. Five looked around the room, eyes settling on the desk, which was still littered with pages of research. “Tell you what, why don’t I stay here until you fall asleep? Then you won’t be lonely.”

Luther looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “You’re gonna stay?”

Five grinned and ruffled Luther’s hair, which didn’t do much since it was so short. “Yeah, big guy. Besides, this room is disgusting. Someone needs to clean it.”

“Okay – keep my research in order, please!”

Five rolled his eyes and set about organizing Luther’s desk. He wasn’t surprised when he heard Luther snoring before he was even halfway done.

When he finally finished and turned back around to look at him, Luther was conked out, curled into a little (big) ball and shivering underneath his blankets.

Five laid another blanket over his sleeping brother before he teleported over to the door one last time. He shut it slowly, taking care not to make any noise.

“G’night, Spacey.”


End file.
